


It Sustains You

by yellow_craion



Series: Soulmates Yarn [9]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Aromantic Raphael Santiago, Asexual Raphael Santiago, Bathing/Washing, Blood Drinking, Canon Jewish Character, Comfort Food, Coming Out, Cooking, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Gardens & Gardening, Gen, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Intimacy, Jewish Simon Lewis, Mundane Simon Lewis, Non-Sexual Intimacy, POV Magnus Bane, POV Raphael Santiago, POV Simon Lewis, Pansexual Simon Lewis, Protective Magnus Bane, Protective Raphael Santiago, Protective Simon Lewis, Queerplatonic Relationships, Red String of Fate, Soulmates, Trans Character, Trans Simon Lewis, Vampire Family, Vampire Turning, being discussed, papa magnus gives the best hugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:47:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24098332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yellow_craion/pseuds/yellow_craion
Summary: “After we eat, we should go back to bed, huh? You couldn’t have slept much.” It warms him up inside to have Raphael care for him enough to get up and make him a bath and cook for him when he must be tired himself. “Thank you,” Simon says a while after his plate is empty.“You’re welcome.”“I mean everything, not just the food, you know,” he clarifies. He’ll be damned if Raphael doesn’t know he’s appreciated. “Getting up at the crack of dawn to take care of your fragile sick human. Thank you for that.”--if you haven't read any of the previous parts of the series - worry not! (I mean, totally go and read those) the basic idea is that saphael are soulmates connected with a red string and they have a great relationship in which they respect each others boundaries and cuddle, like, a lot! (yep, that's about all you need to know)
Relationships: Magnus Bane & Raphael Santiago, Magnus Bane & Simon Lewis, Simon Lewis & Raphael Santiago
Series: Soulmates Yarn [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1149560
Comments: 7
Kudos: 55





	It Sustains You

**Author's Note:**

> omg i thought i'd never finish this one! gah!
> 
> great huge thank you and hugs to brokenfannibal for betaing and green lighting the trans bits!
> 
> this fic involves discussion of becoming a vampire - so about death and watching people die and all that angsty stuff that comes with being an immortal - be warned!
> 
> this takes place before (or around the same time as chapter 1 at the latest) of How to Sew Hearts Back Together, there is a look at Benny (my grumpy oc) to flesh him out before I write the last bit of HtSHBT (to make it all the more painful when you think about it lol) so don't worry if you haven't read that

It’s a warm late summer afternoon, with barely any wind, and white fluffy clouds gliding lazily across the sky. The familiar noises of a bustling city are muffled behind the tall brick fence of the Hotel, leaving Simon to wander through the garden peacefully, soaking up the sunshine, if not the freshest of air. Every now and then he takes a picture; of the hammock strung between an old oak and a sturdy contraption fixed to the side of the main building; of the ivy climbing up a tree; of the rose bushes that are yet to actually bloom this year, but the tiny buds are definitely orange - and isn’t that great? He’ll settle the long lasting debate, because some of the vampires claim the roses are red.

Simon can’t imagine how it must be like to tend to a garden without ever seeing it in the light of day.

He turns at the soft buzzing sound and follows it to a sweet smelling white gardenias and quickly snaps a few pictures of a bumbling bee as it’s perching in the middle of a petal.

He’s enjoying himself, taking his time walking back to the Hotel when he notices movement inside. It’s still too early for any of the vampires to be up, the sun won’t set for a couple hours yet. He looks more carefully now, hoping it was just him staring into the sun earlier that made him see things but there it is a gain. A shadow moving in the lobby, and Simon’s heart jumps to his throat at the memory of that unplanned Shadowhunter visit when...

And his vampires aren’t even awake this time! He should…

He frowns. Since when are they his?

Should he call Magnus for help? His fingers clench around his phone, and he steps closer to take a look, just to make sure and not make a fool of himself.

Upon closer inspection, though, he sees Ben coming from the direction of the front door.

Simon breathes out a sigh of relief and walks in himself, making sure the blinds are back in place to block any direct sunlight, then calls out to the vampire.

“Ben! You scared me! What are you doing up at this hour? It’s not safe yet!”

“I know it’s not, I’m not going outside anytime soon,” he says with a surprisingly fond look at Simon. He gestures for him to join him in the lobby and Simon follows, surprised to find half a dozen boxes of various sizes around the lounge area.

“What’s all this?”

“Delivery!” Ben exclaims happily and sits down in the chair, excitedly ripping open the cardboard, but still impossibly delicate with the contents. “I can’t exactly order anything to the abandoned hotel, but I have a deal with a friend. She’s a werewolf. I order stuff and pay for it but it gets delivered to her and she drops these off,” he grins with a small potted flower in his hand that he just pulled out of the box. “You just missed her,” he nods back towards the door.

Simon is fascinated by the transformation of the stoic and usually grumpy vampire into this joyful, animated gardener. “Want some help unpacking?”

“No! I’ve been waiting for this and I intend to savor it,” Ben gives him a stern look. “So no touching until I’m done, understood?”

“Yep, yep,” Simon nods, barely containing his laughter. “No touching!” He perches on one of the couches, watching Benny stack up new pots, some more potted plants and tools around himself. He asks where the vampire plans to put each plant, and Benny tells him a little about them, how this one smells really sweet at night, or how the other one will complement the flowers already growing in the garden with a new pop of color.

Simon has no real clue about gardening, but listening to Benny, who clearly knows his stuff and talks about it so lovingly, is soothing. When he remembers all the photos he has on his phone of the Hotel garden and offers to show them, Ben’s face lights up all over again going through them.

In the end, Simon sends most of the pictures to Ben’s phone, which somehow is a surprise to him that the vampire even has one. He feels a pang of regret when he realizes he has to cut the conversation short if he is to make it home for sundown.

“I’m sorry, I promised my mom I wouldn’t be late this week,” he explains. Really, for him the only sure way to be there on time for Shabbat would be to stay put the whole of Friday, but that is also not practical.

“Don’t worry about it, Si,” Ben smiles and walks him to the front door. “Thank you for the company, and the pics! Be careful on your way, or Raphael will kick my ass,” he laughs and stops a few steps away from the door.

“He wouldn’t!” He opens the door carefully, mindful of the sunshine he’s letting in and quickly steps outside with a wave and a “bye bye”.

\--

  
  


“I hear you’ve been helping out in the garden,” Raphael comments, coming out from his bathroom after a shower, with a towel draped over his hair to soak up excess moisture.

Simon is sitting in bed, propped up on pillows, his lower half hidden under the blankets, setting things up on his laptop. “Pfff, helping! I took some photos and that was it. But I gotta say, I never saw Ben this excited for anything,” he grins and reaches out, with a grabby hand motion. “Come ‘ere! Come ‘ere!”

Raphael huffs fondly at his expression and walks up, taking his hand and tangling their fingers together. “Did you select the movie?”

“Ohhh, your hands are so warm after the shower,” Simon coos, rubbing the tips of his fingers over Raphael’s knuckles and keeping their palms flush. “I love it. Yeah. I mean, I narrowed it down to: Superman, and I mean the first one with Christopher Reeve, have you seen it?” He asks, but before Raphael can even attempt to consider, he goes on: “Or Wonder Woman, remember? I showed you a trailer last week?” Then he turns and looks expectantly at the vampire.

Raphael remembers the trailer, and is actually a little curious. “Let’s go with Wonder Woman, then?”

The suggestion gets accepted and Simon pats the bed next to himself. He looks up at the towel and puts the laptop aside, the film ready to start at a press of key. “Do you have a comb?”

“On the nightstand,” Raphael nods in that direction. “Why?”

“Sit,” the human grins and without waiting for an answer, scoots to the other side to grab the comb. “May I?” He asks, while holding it up and pointing up.

Raphael shrugs, but he sits down cross legged on the bed, facing Simon and waiting to see what he has in mind.

Simon comes close, so their knees are touching. He puts the comb on the blanket, reaches up with both arms and takes the towel off Raphael’s head, leaving it around his neck like a shawl. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” he says shyly, then combs his fingers through the wet hair.

The vampire bows his head down and lets out a relaxed sigh, letting his shoulders sag forward. He feels himself losing the heat his body’s absorbed from the hot water already, and a shiver runs up his spine when warm fingers slide along his hair and massage his scalp. He braces against the mattress, just to stop himself from falling face first onto Simon’s lap like a dazed cat.

\--

  
  


Raphael wakes up too soon and the first thing he notices is that he’s hot like he can’t remember ever being; not since he died at least. He kicks the covers off before he’s aware of what’s the cause of his discomfort.

His human is tangled in the sheets. He’s warmer than usual, even when asleep and bundled up - seriously how many layers does a person need? But the air smells wrong around him.

“Simon?” All he gets in response is a groan, as he’s trying to gently shake his shoulder. “Simon, wake up.”

“Nuh… lemme… eep,” his soulmate mutters nasally before turning onto his other side, then onto his stomach, in an effort to get more comfortable.

Raphael gets up, quickly strips off the pajama shirt that clings to his chest, tosses it to the floor and walks to his kitchen to make Simon something to drink.

With familiar ease of working in his kitchen, he picks a clean mug and sets the water to boil. He intends to prepare the herbal tea, only to stop when he notices the jar of honey and an even better idea strikes him.

Yes, this will do much better.

There’s a couple of lemons in the fruit bowl, so he picks one, rolls it briefly between his palm and the counter, then grabs a knife to cut it in half. Once the water is hot, Raphael pours it into Simon’s mug, stirs in a generous portion of honey, and squeezes in the lemon juice at the very end.

Drink ready, he takes it to the bedroom along with a spoon, puts it on the bedside table and proceeds to wake up Simon, again.

In the short time he was away, Simon’s managed to twist the sheets even more and uncover the mattress. But what’s really worrying Raphael, are the little winces whenever his throat is working to swallow.

“Simon? Wake up,” he repeats, and Simon flops over onto his back with a whine, cracking one eye open. “There, hello,” the vampire smiles. “Can you sit up? I made you something to drink.”

He pushes himself up against the headboard, picks the mug and pulls it close to his face. Instead of attempting to drink it right away, he closes his eyes and just inhales the warm steam; his expression goes lax and for a moment it looks like he can breathe more easily.

Only after a few peaceful minutes, does Simon even try to drink. He winces again when he does, but just for the first couple sips. “Thanks,” he croaks with a glance up to the side.

“How do you feel?” Raphael sits down on the edge of the bed next to him.

“Nasty,” Simon scowls, then drinks some more before speaking. “Me, not the tea,” he rushes to explain, when he realizes how it must sound. “Meh, stuffy and my bones hurt. This helps,” he adds with a weak grin, gesturing to the mug he’s clutching to his chest.

“I’m glad,” the vampire looks to the covered window, wishing he could open it to let his soulmate get some fresh air and sunlight. It’s what his mother used to do for him whenever he was ill… so long ago.

What if Simon would rather be home, in his own bed? There’s no way Raphael is going to let him wander the streets alone when he’s burning up, and he can’t exactly call a cab to what is widely known as a haunted place. Nor Elaine or his sister.

It’s not like he wants Simon gone either, he’s just suddenly reminded of his limitations and he can’t stand the feeling of letting Simon down. 

He’s pulled away from that train of thought by a pair of arms wrapping around his middle and he blinks down at Simon in surprise.

“Don’t do that,” the human admonishes with his face against Raphael’s stomach.

“What? The tea?” Raphael glances to the empty mug on the night table. “You said you liked…”

“You’re a vamp, looking wistfully at the covered window.” Even though he’s touched by concern at that observation, Raphael just wants to laugh at how petulant Simon sounds at this moment. “That can’t be good, whatever you’re thinking.”

He smooths his hand over Simon’s hair, the tips of his fingers scraping softly against the scalp and down his neck. “Thank you,” he whispers.

“Mm.”

Temporarily turned away from thoughts of deadly sunshine, Raphael considers what he can do. “How about we get you some fresh clothes and change the sheets? Do you feel up for a bath?”

“That would be nice, yeah.”

\--

  
  


Simon’s sitting on the closed toilet lid, watching Raphael prepare a bath for him. The vampire is still only wearing pajama bottoms, and Simon uses the opportunity to admire his form, as he’s moving back and forth, turning the water on and picking a towel out so it’s in easy reach.

He doesn’t usually wallow in self-criticism when it comes to his body, not anymore, he’d much rather just appreciate people’s bodies than compare them to his own.

And Raphael is really… nice to look at.

But then, the vampire walks out and back in quickly, with a fresh pajama for Simon in hand, and it’s right there, in his face. Just how can Simon undress in front of someone who looks that good?

They may be soulmates, and Raphael is wonderful and loving, and queer like him…

He knows being queer doesn’t guarantee someone’s not a bigot, but still, Simon expects more understanding from his own community than the general public. Just the basic understanding, really. One queer person to another. Should be easy… easier than explaining it to a random cishet.

So far the vampire’s been nothing but accepting, and sometimes curious, of his other identities. If he can admit it only to himself, a Catholic soulmate worried Simon more than his undead status, or anything else he may have found out.

Nowadays though, Simon worries at what point they will hit the wall. At what point will Raphael think that that’s enough? That’s why he’s still deep in the closet about being trans. Better safe than sorry.

He should have just come out ages ago, like Raphael did. That was brave. And lucky! He knows full well how aro and ace people are treated even in the community. Well, maybe not full well, he’s not aro or ace, but the point stands. Which puts a bit of a hole in his ‘one queer person to another’ perspective but Simon refuses to go down that rabbit hole. He’s glad to have given Raphael a safe coming out experience. He hopes, at least.

Yet the thought of Raphael being - never mind showing - disappointed or disgusted is paralyzing Simon.

The small rational part of his brain tells him it’s unfair to Raphael, who has just as many marginalized identities - though, again, Simon reminds himself - not a contest! He still...

“Which one?”

“Huh?”

Raphael is holding two bottles of liquid soap for him to choose from. One is a wild rose with sandalwood, the other ...ocean?

Simon points to the first one and watches as Raphael puts a few pumps into the water before setting it on the rim of the bathtub. The steam from the hot bath is slowly helping him breathe, and he closes his eyes, enjoying the smells.

“So, uh, you need help getting in there? You’re not dizzy, are you?”

“No, no!” Simon is quick to answer. “I’ll be fine. Thank you!” He’s a little curious about where Raphael stands on nudity and all that, if he’d be really okay with watching anyone get naked and into a bath… but that’s a topic Simon is holding onto for later. Much later.

Once the vampire leaves, with a promise to get a soup started, Simon strips off his sweaty clothes and sits down in the tub. He doesn’t want to think anymore, not about heavy things. He needs to relax, so instead he fights his boredom by reading random labels on products around him.

The aromatic steam is great for his breathing. He sinks up to his chin under the water, just sitting like that and enjoying the heat.

Just when the water loses its temperature he starts to scrub at his skin.

He towels off quickly and puts on the clothes. He has a moment of panic when he notices the lack of the silver chain on his neck and looks around the floor, then in the water for his Star of David pendant, before he realizes he left it on the bedside table. The chain was irritating his throat when he was turning back and forth, unable to sleep, and he took it off during the night.

With a final pat down and a brush to his hair, he’s ready to find Raphael in the kitchen.

He must have taken longer in the bath than he thought - he can actually smell a chicken soup and Raphael is dressed already; in his customary black dress pants and shirt. A dark purple shade this time; the open neckline drawing Simon’s appreciative gaze in.

“Feeling better?” Raphael asks, still not looking away from the pot.

“Yes. Thank you.” Simon comes over, wraps his arms around him from behind and takes a deep breath. “Smells nice, now that I can breathe. What is it? Doesn’t smell like tomato soup,” he frowns at the red color.

“No, no tomatoes in this,” Raphael smiles. “And last time you said to cut down on the kick so I only used half the chili I usually use for this,” he laughs at the wide eyed look Simon is giving him. “Shush. It has onions, garlic, all the good things to boost your immune system.”

“Careful. You start sounding like my mom,” Simon squints. “What are the tiny balls?”

“Hominy. It needs a bit longer, I think,” he puts the ladle aside, then turns around in the embrace.

“Hmmm,” Simon leans in to kiss the corner of Raphael’s lips, something he’s done exactly once, recently and quite by accident. Well, not exactly an accident, so much as spur of the moment, impulsive reaction he had. And Raphael, while surprised, hasn’t looked like he minded.

Except he clearly does now, if leaning back and turning away from Simon is any indication.

Simon’s heart sinks, and he’s not even sure if it’s at the disappointment or at the realization that he crossed a line with Raphael that time before.

Raphael, for his part, is blinking too much. He gulps and it all looks too much like he’s trying to compose himself.

“Simon…”

“Sorry!”

They start at the same time and cut off just as soon as they realize the other is also trying to speak.

“I don’t have a problem with you kissing me. At least not the way I assume you intended to kiss me.” Raphael sighs. “I’m not sure I could handle one of those, uh, deep throat kisses? I just...”

He looks up as if hoping to find the words on the ceiling, and Simon is waiting quietly. “I’d rather stick to hand and temple kisses, if you don’t mind? Just any body part really,” he lets out a nervous laugh, doing a poor job of covering the brief flash of panic in his eye. 

“Oh, okay,” Simon looks down. He can feel his face heating up but puts it down to his fever. “Sorry, for that time, before. Should’ve asked…”

“I got the feeling you were just as surprised as me, then,” the vampire admits gently. “Thank you for understanding.”

Simon hates how tentative he sounds, and squeezes his arms around him in response.

“Lip kissing aside,” Raphael nods to the side and Simon follows with his gaze. There’s a handful of thinly sliced red onion, waiting on one board, and on the other, leftover bits of shredded chicken. On the countertop furthest from the stove, there is a tall glass, half full of red liquid.

“That, uh, that’s... mine,” Raphael points to the glass. “I still have blood in my mouth, Simon. Didn’t think you’d like that.”

He looks back at Raphael and Simon’s struck as the normalcy of it catches him by surprise. How domestic it looks. Just like a glass of juice he would leave at home.

Except. This is blood.

“Thank you,” he smiles. “I appreciate that.” Realization dawns on him then. Simon’s seen other vampires drink in front of him. But he can’t recall ever seeing Raphael do so. Maybe once, when he was hurt?

“Are you… do you hide it? On purpose, I mean? So you don’t have blood around me?”

Reluctantly, Raphael nods. “Didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he frowns. “Unless I was wrong to assume...?”

“You… I don’t,” Simon starts but he’s not entirely sure what he wants to say. He thinks back to all those times he’s seen other vampires drink, and is just about to say something…

_As long as you’re not making me drink it we’re good._

...but then, his mind spirals in another direction. What if some day…? He doesn’t need to now. But what about ever? He usually avoids that topic, and apparently Raphael has been conscious enough of it to not force it on him, and Simon wants to thank him. Except. At some point they will have to have that conversation - another one! - and Simon has no idea what to think of the options.

All he knows right now is that saying that would feel wrong. He doesn’t know what will happen in their future but it just feels too permanent.

So he can’t say that.

Because what if, someday, he actually does decide to turn? As scary as that is to consider.

Hanging around the Hotel he’s accustomed to the un-dead presence, he needs more information, though! 

“Simon?”

He startles and looks back to the vampire. “Right! Sorry, started thinking too much again,” he laughs nervously.

“No such thing,” Raphael whispers. “Are you upset?” He lifts one arm from Simon’s waist and rubs a gentle circle behind his ear with his thumb.

Finally, Simon has an idea of what to say that should be right. “No. Appreciate the thought, but it’s okay. You can drink in front of me, everybody else does. Don’t worry,” he smiles.

“Alright, then.”

Still, the vampire seems uncertain and it irks SImon, because he can’t help but be uncertain himself and it is probably what Raphael is picking up on. Or, just as likely in Simon’s opinion, he is just worrying too much himself.

Thus, in an effort to change the subject to something lighter, he turns to the soup. His head is getting stuffy again, as is his nose, and he is in no condition to be thinking about anything serious like that. It will end badly, he knows from experience. Instead, once he’s feeling better, he will start the proper research.

_Huh_ , he thinks, as he feels himself getting excited about the prospect.

“Let me try that soup now,” Simon reaches for a spoon of his own, when he’s struck by why he’s doing it in the first place. “Can you get the cold from me?”

“Never heard of a vampire getting an infection,” he shrugs, stepping aside to give Simon the room to taste.

“Hmmm,” he stirs the pot thoughtfully. “This is good! And ready, we can turn it off,” he proclaims after a spoonful, and proceeds to pour himself a plate, including all the bits floating in the broth. He takes it to the island and sits down, motioning for Raphael to do the same. “Bring your blood. We can have breakfast together,” he beams at the idea. “Our first!”

Raphael smiles softly and Simon feels much better to see the strain on his face gone.

“After we eat, we should go back to bed, huh? You couldn’t have slept much.” It warms him up inside to have Raphael care for him enough to get up and make him a bath and cook for him when he must be tired himself. “Thank you,” Simon says a while after his plate is empty.

“You’re welcome.”

“I mean everything, not just the food, you know,” he clarifies. He’ll be damned if Raphael doesn’t know he’s appreciated. “Getting up at the crack of dawn to take care of your fragile sick human. Thank you for that.”

The vampire is practically glowing, when he takes Simon’s hand in his and runs his thumb over his knuckles, back and forth. “I like taking care of you, Simon,” he says, staring at their joined hands, before pulling them up slowly.

Simon can’t tell where their mutual fixation with hands came from, but he melts every time his soulmate kisses his hands.

Like now.

“Go to bed. Let me grab a mouthwash and I’ll join you,” Raphael gets up but then Simon stops him by snatching his forearm. “Hm?”

“Like you said, we’re not doing any deepthroating,” he rolls his eyes at his own phrasing, when the vampire snorts, but goes with it. “It’s fine. Come on, let’s cuddle!”

\--

  
  


Late in the evening, Raphael is still in bed, pinned in place by Simon and watching him. He’s made several gentle attempts to get up but each time he almost disentangles himself, the human latches onto him with a sleepy murmur.

Eventually he has no choice but to get out of bed. He kisses Simon’s forehead before speeding off to find a fresh suit and make himself presentable. He has a few errands to run in the city, ones he has to attend to himself, and he thinks he may stop by a pharmacy on his way. There’s bound to be a few in the area of the hospital that are open 24/7.

He checks in with everybody downstairs first; then goes to the hospital to confirm there’s no trouble with the next blood delivery for his Clan and picks something for Simon on the way back at the pharmacy. Better not go to the meeting with any human medication, it would only raise unnecessary questions.

Several long hours later, he comes back to the Hotel. He stops after closing the door behind himself and breathes in the scent of the entry hall, so different now, with traces of Simon. Most of the Hotel is a little different because of it, actually.

There’s a… tinge of a living, breathing human all around Raphael now.

He likes it.

Suddenly there’s someone running - he can hear the floorboards above, and waits for whoever it is to make it down.

It takes less than a minute, with vampire speed, for Amy to land in front of him.

“Hey,” she says, peeking behind him, red hair falling into her eyes. “You didn’t happen to see Benny on your way in?”

“No,” he answers. It’s a bit late, he’s cutting it short himself at this time. “He’s still not back?”

Amy hums, thinking it over while pulling her hair into a bun on the top of her head. “This close to sunrise he probably won’t make it,” she muses.

“He’ll be fine, Amy. He’s old and resourceful. He’s probably already holed up somewhere safe,” Raphael tries to reassure, but makes a mental note to check in with Benny tomorrow. He’s not yet worried, it happens that someone loses track of time and stays out too late. Most cases, they come back home the next evening as soon as it’s safe to move about and the sun is gone again. Some vampires even have relationships with werewolves or warlocks and then get a bed to sleep in for the day, without worrying about sunshine. It’s not that uncommon. Worse case, there are the sewers.

“Yeah,” she keeps looking at the front door. “We went out together, the three of us. You know he likes that bar so much, he told us to go and stayed there for another drink himself.”

“The one that reminds him of home?” They share a fond smile. He is fairly certain that’s the one where Benny’s werewolf friend works the bar.

“Okay, well. Won’t keep you any longer. Goodnight, Raphael,” she waves and bolts up just as quickly as she came down before.

Raphael makes a final sweep of the ground floor and when there’s nothing out of the ordinary, he turns to the steps. Slowly, he makes his way upstairs, following the red string but also his senses. There’s a pulse of a heartbeat in an otherwise still building and it’s pulling him in. He is so glad, so stupidly relieved there’s no fledglings here. All the inhabitants are mature enough to control the hunger so he doesn’t worry about leaving his soulmate at the Hotel.

He has no idea what would happen if he were put between his Clan and his soulmate though.

Once inside his suite, Raphael pours in a glass of water and leaves that on the nightstand with the meds, then untangles his tie, watching Simon sleep in his bed, looking so peaceful with that duvet tucked under his chin.

He never thought his cold dead heart could be this full; this happy.

He knows he’d be called ridiculous for ever doubting that, but he still wonders if Simon is happy with him too. Only sometimes.

Simon is patient with him. He’s curious and eager and laughs often, when in Raphael’s company. He’s confident that Simon is at the very least content.

But is he happy?

He walks into his wardrobe and picks up fresh pajamas to change into. Silk, of course. He is, after all, Magnus’ son in all but blood. He changes quickly and joins the human in bed.

“Mmm… el?” Simon mutters blearily, sensing the presence next to him.

“It’s me,” he whispers and wraps his arm around Simon’s waist. “I left some cold pills for you on the nightstand, next to the water, if you want...”

Now he feels bad for buying them in the first place without consulting it first, but Simon props himself up slowly and reaches for the packet of pills, reads the label and shrugs before swallowing two with a few gulps of water.

Then he sleepily burrows into Raphael’s chest.

\--

  
  


Simon is woken by his bladder calling.

Instead of going back to bed, though, he decides to get on with the day. With his appetite making a comeback, he puts a bowl of soup into the microwave, all the while stealing glances toward the bed, just to check he’s not disturbing the vampire.

In the quiet, Simon tries to sort through the questions and the fears, all buzzing in his head since before. Their unique situation has made him wonder sometimes, but whenever the issue of their age gap, their lifespans and… dietary needs crept up on him, Simon always managed to postpone any serious consideration about himself and his future. Instead, he focused on making a daily - or nightly - routine work between them.

Except now he keeps coming back to that moment when Raphael pointed out the glass of blood, how ordinarily it sat there on the countertop, but at the same time how profound.

Simon shakes his head, calling himself stupid for not realizing sooner what Raphael was doing. Other vampires didn’t try to hide it, so he never noticed - it sounds so weak suddenly. He’s touched that Raphael would go to such lengths to spare Simon the uneasiness, but then he doubts himself - has he given the vampire a reason to hide it?

He hopes not, but isn’t it ironic? He’s hiding parts of himself too, and it’s not even because he expects Raphael to react badly. Well, not entirely. He has misjudged some people in his life before, but he’s pretty confident he’d be safe to come out to the vampire.

The thing is, Simon’s not sure he wants to, at least not yet.

He can’t go to his mother or sister with his worries, because they don’t know that vampires and magic and all those other things actually exist… which....

He smiles at the idea of them finding it out. He remembers his own wonder and excitement and can just picture Rebeccah sharing his enthusiasm. But no. That is another big thing to consider and he really needs to focus! One possibly life altering decision at a time, thank you.

He needs an outsider’s perspective, though; someone reliable, who knows things and could advise him, but wouldn’t be so personally invested one way or the other. Of course, Magnus pops up in his mind; he did tell him to come with any questions he has. Granted, the warlock is invested in Raphael’s life - un-life? - but Simon thinks he must give great advice regardless.

His mind made up, he takes a quick shower and gets ready, then writes a note that he’s feeling better and going out, so that Raphael doesn’t worry. On his way there, he actually remembers to text Magnus to warn him he’s about to drop in, hopeful that the warlock will be available on short notice.

Miraculously, he is.

\--

  
  


Magnus is quick letting him inside, his movements graceful as ever but there’s purpose to them, like he’s in a hurry. “Come,” he leads Simon into his apothecary, where a small cauldron is perched over the open fire, and the nearby table is full of bottles and other containers. Whatever’s cooking smells… strange.

“I started brewing this before you called and I really shouldn’t leave it unsupervised,” the warlock flashes him an apologetic smile, while stirring the steaming concoction with a wooden spoon, not unlike what his mom uses in the kitchen.

Simon takes a sweeping look around the room, grinning in wonder at the dark wooden cabinets, the heavy intricately carved desk, and the bottles big and small, all with handwritten labels on them. They remind him of Raphael’s spices, though these must be magic and are probably dangerous. And the books! So many books all over the place. He rubs his fingers together at his sides, struggling to contain the urge to touch anything with disastrous consequences.

“This place is awesome!” He tells Magnus, bouncing at the balls of his feet in excitement.

Magnus starts at the compliment. “Thank you,” his surprise slowly morphs into such a soft expression that it in turn makes Simon flustered.

_What did I say?_ He looks down at his feet, still unable to stop the grin though.

“What brings you here? Raphael told me you’re ill,” Magnus watches him closely across the room. “Are you here to try a potion?”

Simon looks up. “No, I feel better today,” his voice wobbles when he says that and he frowns. He really should have expected them talking about him, Magnus and Raphael are close, of course they talk about everything; doesn’t mean it’s anything bad.

“I’m glad to hear it,” the warlock nods, looking expectant.

“You said once I could come to you if I had questions, and well,” he gulps. He had so many things running through his mind, ready to explode and now that he’s made it to Magnus’, he fumbles with his hands nervously, unsure of his words. “If the offer still stands, I mean. Here I am. And I have questions…?”

“Oh! Yes, of course the offer still stands, Simon,” he assures. “What would you like to talk about?” 

“I, uh,” Simon falters, lost for words. Should he start with just vampire turning and ask about the other transition later? Or start with the trans questions that come with potential turning?

Would Magnus judge him for keeping that from Raphael? Suddenly Simon is scared to come out, even though that is pretty much the reason he bothered the warlock in the first place. He gulps loudly, eyes darting back to Magnus. “I mean I haven’t....” 

“Simon?”

“Sorry, I, uh,” he huffs. “Not sure how to start.” he hates the concerned look Magnus is giving him because it means he’s making him worry. So much for not making this a big deal!

“It's okay, Simon. Take your time.”

He takes a deep breath.

“Do you know what transgender means?” He fights the urge to shut his eyes, which is good, because otherwise he’d miss the minute way the warlock’s shoulders sag and his unexpected sigh of relief. He frowns at that. Why would _he_ be the one relieved by that question?

“Yes,” Magnus closes his eyes briefly. “Yes, I know.” Then as if to prove or reassure - Simon isn’t certain which - that he really does, he adds: “means the person identifies with a gender different than what they’ve been assigned.”

Simon nods. “Okay, yeah,” he clears his throat. “I’m trans. And out of all the weird, awkward, difficult things I had to figure out, I never thought I would have to consider vampirism as a factor in my testosterone levels, you know?” He forces out a nervous laugh but it feels hollow and out of place.

“I bet you didn’t.” Magnus shakes his head with a chuckle, then sombers quickly. “Thank you,” he’s giving Simon that same soft smile as before, like he’s grateful for his presence, like he cares, and Simon doesn’t know what to do with himself when he’s at the receiving end of it. It makes something in him flutter and he can imagine, for a fleeting second, how it must feel like to be Raphael and to have someone look at him that way. “For trusting me and telling me that.”

It’s not that his mother never looked at him with that level of affection, or Rebeccah even. But blood relatives are supposed to love you, right? Never mind that it’s not always the case anyway, but Magnus is a stranger (growing more familiar with every interaction but still) and to have him look at Simon like he’s part of a family and he matters to him personally… and he just accepted a huge part of him, just like that. Like the most natural thing in the world. That’s something else entirely.

So he’s staring at the warlock, soaking it up greedily, before it fully registers and he has to look away, flustered. “Thanks,” he mutters awkwardly, a shy smile tugging at his lips.

“Of course,” he nods and goes back to stirring the potion. He unscrews a little flat container and picks a pinch of a purple powder to scatter it over the boiling cauldron, gives it a moment then his lips purse in a this-is-good-enough expression that makes Simon want to laugh at how normal it is among all the magic.

“As for possible turning, there are trans vampires around, Simon. Maybe not a lot, the vampire population is relatively small to begin with,” he turns the fire off and lets the potion sit. “But you certainly wouldn’t be the first one. _If_ you decide to do that.”

“I guess,” he shrugs. “I’m ready to look into my options. But… It’s… scary, you know?” Simon glances up, feeling a little ashamed to admit it in front of someone like Magnus, someone who lived for centuries and must have seen all kinds of things. But the warlock just nods and listens. “When I met Raphael it did cross my mind, of course it did, but I always put that away for later. Don’t like thinking how I would have to die and leave my family to go on living without me... “

This is why he always avoided dwelling on it; just the idea of that is making his eyes sting and his throat close up, and he can feel Magnus’ eyes on himself, but he can’t help all the emotions bubbling up to the surface.

“And, I suppose in time,” Simon continues, fighting past the lump growing in his throat. “I could make my peace with it. I’d be with Raphael, and he’s my soulmate, and that’s like the universe, or God, saying we should be together, right? So compared to that, worrying about what it will do to my body... it’s stupid, I guess,” he opens up his arms, resigned to the tears pooling in his eyes but he got this far, he will damn well get it all out, and then Magnus can tell him he’s doing the right thing or how it shouldn’t be that hard if he really loves Raphael. 

“But it is hard! It took me so long to figure myself out and to get to the place where I’m happy with myself and I’m scared to lose that!”

He said it. It’s out in the open and it feels good to let it out, as horrible as it makes him feel at the same time. Simon doesn’t have enough free headspace anymore to properly worry that he’s being too loud, too emotional. 

Magnus keeps his mouth firmly shut, letting Simon talk, when he realises the human probably hasn’t shared any of his fears with anyone yet. It doesn’t look like he has, he suspects not even with Raphael; only because Magnus knows his boy so well, and Raphael would not stand this. He’d be heartbroken if he knew the pressure Simon’s been putting on himself.

_Oh, Simon..._

He moves closer, maneuvering around the work table, so that by the time Simon is finished, Magnus is just a few steps away from him. With slow steady movements he lifts his arms up, deliberately giving Simon time to back away, and when he stays put, wide wet eyes staring at the warlock, Magnus wraps him in a hug.

At first it’s stiff, like Simon isn’t sure what to do, but then he heaves in a breath and chokes out on a sob: “I’m… so… rry!” Then he tentatively puts his hands on Magnus’ sides. “Sorry for making a scene, I didn’t… didn’t mean to…!”

“Shhh, it’s okay, Simon,” the warlock says, gently pulling the human closer, glad to feel the stiffness melt in his arms until Simon squeezes fistfuls of his shirt and rests his forehead on Magnus’ shoulder. “None of that. You didn’t make a scene. That was so brave of you to tell me all that, you hear me? It took guts and I’m so proud of you.”

He’s listening to Simon’s heavy breathing, giving him time to calm down and collect himself.

“Raphael doesn’t know I’m trans,” Simon says suddenly, his voice muffled by fabric but still unsteady.

"I practically raised that boy myself, if you get _anything but_ ready acceptance, I’m going to be really disappointed in him,” Magnus deadpans and then smiles to himself when he hears a snort among the sniffling.

“It’s alright, I won’t tell him. Don’t worry.”

He keeps holding the human as he is growing quiet. “You don’t have to tell him if you don’t want to,” he adds a moment later. “And you’re allowed to decide against turning, and it will be okay too. You hear me, Simon?”

The warlock feels him nod against his shoulder, and his breathing is slowing down.

“Yeah…?”

“Yeah.”

Simon steps out from the hug and wipes at his eyes to dry them. Magnus takes a long look at him - he’s been ill, and now this certainly took a lot out of him too. With a contemplative hum, he takes him by the wrist and tugs on it softly, to get him to follow out into the living room.

“First you need some food in you,” he explains, and waves his free hand with a flourish at his side.

“But I just ate,” Simon protests weakly, but follows obediently into the kitchen. “Really, you don’t have to… woah!”

The warlock watches his confused expression with glee. Poor Simon, still not used to magic and what Magnus can do with a flick of his wrist.

“That wasn’t there when I came in… was it?” He approaches the kitchen island warily, looking into the softly steaming plate of matzo ball soup sitting there like it is about to jump up onto his face any second.

“No,” he agrees readily. “Hope it’s acceptable, but I can always get you something else. It really is no bother.”

“No, no! This is good,” Simon gives him a shy smile, still looking amazed and a little dazed, before he actually sits down. “You’re not having anything?”

He shrugs. “Maybe I’ll have some tea…” He goes to fill the kettle the traditional way, hoping the extra time it takes to brew the tea will help Simon ease any remaining tension. “Would you like some as well?”

The human perks up, the spoon halfway to his mouth. “Do you have more of that jasmine tea we had last time?”

“I do,” the warlock grins and takes his time getting everything set up; two tea cups, spoons, the tea pot and the wooden box with the tea leaves.

The sound of the spoon being rested against the porcelain plate jars Magnus out of his rhythm.

“Did you mean that?” Simon asks gently but there’s new confidence in his tone that the warlock hasn’t heard earlier. “Or was that just to help me calm down, when you said it would be okay if I never turned? It’s fine if it was just platitude, I get it, I can be a lot when I get going like that…. Just, tell me the truth okay?”

Magnus takes a shaky breath in, completely unprepared for the painfully familiar sentiment suddenly squeezing at his throat.

_I know I can be too much…_

He knows how those words feel, intimately; how suffocating they can be.

It feels strange hearing them from somebody else’s mouth. And coming from Simon, it’s just wrong.

He swallows past the lump and blinks out the mist in his eyes. “I meant it,” he turns around and braces his hands on the edge of the counter, making an effort to stay open but at the same time needing the extra support.

“I meant every word. You can talk with Raphael about turning, I think it would help you to hear what he has to say about it. But here’s what I can tell you,” Magnus pauses to make sure what he’s saying is getting through to the human.

“No half decent person will think less of you or judge you if you decide not to be a vampire. You worry about watching your loved ones die, and you should definitely consider that, but I’m not sure you really understand what turning means.”

Simon is looking down at the empty plate with a frown.

“Becoming a vampire means you die. And nobody should pressure you into that, Simon. Nobody can blame you for not wanting to die, because you wanting to live is _a good thing!_ ”

The pressure he puts on the last words makes Simon crack a smile and he nods readily.

Good.

Magnus finishes making the tea and carries the two cups to the kitchen island. “And Simon?” He says before sitting beside him. “You’re not a lot, or too much. Take my word for it.”

“Thank you,” he whispers into the tea. “So, um… would hormones even work on a vampire?”

The warlock scrunches up his face in consideration. “Well, kiiiiiind of? But not really,” he admits eventually, then elaborates when he sees Simon’s pitifully lost expression. “Look. You could take injections, because, seriously, as a vampire? Forget anything that doesn’t go directly into the bloodstream. I heard of some vamps trying that. And technically it should work, because as you feed on blood, you get the circulation back, right?”

Simon nods, listening attentively.

“Except the result is nothing like what you would expect on a human, so you may as well not bother at all,” Magnus throws his hands up.

“Great,” Simon hangs his head in disappointment. “So what does that mean for me, exactly?”

Magnus smirks.

“What?”

“There is a potion,” he says, tapping a finger on his chin. “I only made it a few times, and I’d have to look it up, I barely remember anything, it was so long ago… But! I remember the client was very pleased with the effects.”

“Why didn’t you lead with that? This is fantastic!”

“You did ask about human solutions,” he shrugs. “Besides, you should know your options, so you don’t do anything stupid later, like going to your regular doctor and failing a basic health exam because you have no pulse.”

“How would I even go to my doctor if I’d get burned by sunlight on my way?”

“Good,” the warlock grins. “You’re paying attention.”

Simon glares, but there’s barely any heat to that. He’s too excited about the potion alternative.

“So tell me more about this potion! Is it a one time thing? Do I take it every week? Every month?”

“Like I said, it’s been a while since I made it. It’s not a one time thing, though. You’d have to drink it every few weeks, maybe once a month. And just so we understand each other,” he makes a dramatic pause. “This is not going to give you a new body, or anything fancy like that. It’s just to maintain the hormone levels how you want them to be.”

“Right, that’s fine,” Simon nods. Then he blanches. “How much is this going to cost me?”

He’s not going to be able to maintain a regular job, so how exactly would he get the money for… anything really? Granted Raphael seems to have a stash somewhere, simply because those suits he’s wearing can’t be cheap, but Simon never intended to be a stay at home husband, and to depend on someone else’s charity - or lack thereof. Shit!

“Think we can come to an agreement,” Magnus inclines his head.

“Is this the part where you demand my voice in payment? Or my firstborn?! I don’t have and I don’t intend to make one!”

The warlock laughs. “Nothing quite that dramatic,” he pats Simon on the shoulder.

\--

  
  


The night is dark, with barely a crescent moon hidden behind the rolling clouds. Raphael is splayed out in the hammock, legs crossed at the ankles and arms folded under his head and staring up at the twinkling stars up above him. He can’t remember anymore if they were always visible through the clouds, or if it’s his vampire eyesight making that possible.

_It’s the same stars in Mexico…._

So many things he can’t properly remember how they used to feel. Cooking helps, the smells allow him to imagine and sometimes he can almost taste them if he focuses hard enough. And having living people in his life is a blessing; he loves how Simon almost glows with warmth after coming inside during the day, and when he hugs Raphael, the vampire can almost remember how sunshine felt on his skin.

He wonders if it’s anything like what his sister is going through, forgetting so many things. He’s always looking forward to visiting her, hoping for a flash of recognition and a comment.

_You look like someone I used to know..._

He knows it’s not fair to hope she’d recognize him for who he really is. By rights, he should look like an old man.

He dreads the day Rosa will not remember him at all.

The stillness is broken suddenly by a rustle down the path and if the loud heartbeat didn’t give the person away, the sound of his footsteps soon followed by a tentative voice calling out Raphael’s name would have.

He turns to face Simon, surprised by the company at this hour. “Hi,” he frowns, looking him up and down, and jumps out of the hammock. “Everything alright?”

“Hey,” he smiles back, but quickly looks down, twisting his fingers in front of himself nervously. “Yeah, no, it’s all good… I just… can we talk?”

Now the vampire is really worried; Simon hasn’t sounded this anxious around him since they met.

“Of course, what is it?”

“I’ve been thinking… well, to be honest at first I actually did my best not to think about it,” he mutters, almost to himself, after making a few steps to the side, tugging at the red string gently and wrapping it around a finger, releasing it and doing it again. “But I think I should, so I have,” he clears his throat and looks at his soulmate apologetically. “Sorry, the point is: turning into a vamp. That’s what I’m getting at.”

Raphael is frozen solid at those words. Thinking about turning.

Does it mean Simon wants to do it? Now? Already? That is way too soon! He still has so many years ahead of him in the sun! He still hasn’t graduated college! And to think Simon would just give up so many wonderful things to become _this_? Unacceptable! He wouldn’t wish that on anyone, least of all Simon!

Or does it mean he decided it’s abhorrent and he could never go through with it? Not that Raphael could blame him, he spent decades coming to terms with what he is himself. He knows already he’d be devastated to watch Simon grow old and die, just like so many people… He shuts his eyes when it reminds him of Rosa all over again, because no, she is still very much alive, dammit!

Both scenarios scare Raphael, more than he’d like to admit, and he’s certain it’s showing on his face, but he can’t muster the strength to control his muscles just now.

“I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner that you were hiding the blood. I appreciate what you were trying to do, I do,” Simon insists, shifting from one foot onto the other in a half step, as if he wanted to pace but was stopping himself. “And if,” he looks up briefly and panics: “Raphael? Are… are you okay? Should I stop?”

The vampire stares, stupidly lost for words. “Sorry,” he chokes out eventually and shakes his head for emphasis. “Go on. Continue. Please?”

Simon frowns, but does continue.

“And if I ever made you feel like you need to hide that, I didn’t mean to. I was actually trying to do the opposite,” he chuckles nervously, while Raphael is desperately trying to figure out what it means.

He’s never blamed Simon, he started drinking blood when the human was away, because most people find that disgusting, and a look of disgust from Simon would no doubt crush him. So he played it safe.

Was that a mistake?

“I never came to you to talk about what being a vampire would mean because I didn’t want to get your expectations up, or give you a false hope,” Simon says in such a sad, regretful tone it breaks Raphael’s heart to hear it. “I didn’t want to risk you thinking I wanted to turn, only to disappoint you if I didn’t. But now I’m starting to realize that maybe it was wrong.”

Oh.

“I don’t know yet what I’m gonna do. Maybe I will turn, someday. I don’t know. It’s scary,” Simon flashes him a toothy grin, breaking the tension. “I’d like to be able to talk it out with you sometimes. What do you think? Can we do that?”

“Yeah,” he breathes out with a smile, feeling the knot in his chest loosening. “We absolutely can.”

**Author's Note:**

> title inspired by raymond holt :D


End file.
